The Other Sloan
by DylanMichael
Summary: Mark Sloan has a sixteen year old son, Michael. A son he forgot to mention to everyone at Seattle Grace Hospital. When his two worlds collide in the trauma room, he has to decide between being a lead plastic surgeon and being a good father. Can he manage both? Will something have to take a back seat? Only time can tell. Rated M for language. AN: ON HIATUS - 17/06/2017
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so, I've had this idea for a while now. It's just taken me a very long time to get a story line and plan worked out. Basically we're cutting in at the beginning of season five, around when the domino kidney transplant surgery is happening. Mark Sloan has a child, a sixteen year old FtM transgender son. Before you ask, I am transgender myself so a lot of Michael's emotions and social situations are from my own personal experience. This story could possibly be rated an M for later chapter, but I'll change it when I get round to that.**

 **I am currently looking for a beta for this story, preferably someone who either is American or who lives in America. The reason I say this is because I need to make sure my terms and jargon are correct. I'm a British guy and we have different terms for things over here. Also my grammar isn't fantastic due to my dyslexia but I try my best. I'm trying out the whole third person writing for the first time as well so please hang in there if it's not that good.**

 **Anyone, any questions, feel free to ask away. Any suggestions I'll be happy to take and possibly work with. And criticism is also welcome, but please remember this is my first time. Try to be gentle ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter One**

 _Do you ever get the feeling that the world is moving without you?_

 **Michael's POV**

"We've got a seventeen year old female from a side on traffic collision. Open fracture of the right radius. Minor cuts on the face and head. Vitals good. No other obvious injuries. We've also got a sixteen year old male impaled on the left side chest. No obvious signs of head trauma but was unconscious at the scene. Possible break and dislocation of the left femur. Laceration to the left forearm."

"Is her arm inside his chest!"

"Big trauma, very big trauma."

"Michael, look at me. Honey open your eyes." The voice of an angel, muffled by something. All I can do is groan, sending waves of agony through my body. "Michael, come on. Open your eyes."

I open my eyes to see bright lights surrounding a black shadow. I'm moving but I don't feel like I'm going anywhere. As my eyes adjust to the lights, the black shadow turns into the angel who spoke before. Samantha. She has an oxygen mask on her face and several scratches on her forehead, her hair streaked with blood. She has tears falling from her fear filled eyes.

"Okay, page Torres, Hahn, Shepherd and Sloan. Get O'Malley, Stevens and both Grey's. Get them to trauma two. We're gonna need all the hands we can get." A voice from a person I can't see.

"Sammy, you're sat on me. Get off babe." I hear myself say in a gruff, rugged voice, muffled by an oxygen mask like Samantha's. As I try to sit up, another wave of pain washes over me, stilling me again. "What the hell?" I mumble.

A short, dark skinned lady with a bob haircut comes to stand next to me. I try to turn my head to look at her but there's something around my neck, restricting my movements.

"No, don't move. You could cause more damage." She tells me in a firm voice. "You've been in a car accident. You need to stay still so we can help you."

I can feel panic filling me up, being made worse by the claustrophobia of Samantha sat leaning above me. "Can you get her off? I can't breathe. Please Samantha, can you get off? I can't move." I sob unwilling with saying the last sentence.

Someone I can't see takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. "We can't move Samantha, because you both have injuries. If we move you or her, it could make them worse." The short lady explains. "My name is Doctor Miranda Bailey. I am going to make sure we do our very best to take care of you both."

"Michael, it'll be okay honey. Just listen to the doctors. We'll be okay." Samantha smiles down at me. I'd feel better if her voice wasn't shaking.

"Doctor Bailey you paged?" Another female voice came through the hustle and bustle as a door bangs open. "Oh my god."

"That's not helping!" I immediately tell the new voice. "When I can't move or breathe and you say you can't move Samantha off of me because it might hurt us more and you say oh my god it doesn't help." I gasp for air as the panic starts to take over, engulfing me.

"Stevens! Control yourself! We have two frightened children here and you are not helping the situation by calling the Lords name. If you cannot handle a situation like this, leave now. Do you understand me?" Doctor Bailey tells the other voice.

"Yes Doctor Bailey. Sorry. I just- sorry." The new voice, Stevens, replies quietly and doesn't say anything else.

"Mikey, you're doing great sweetheart. Try to keep breathing, remember to keep even, slow breaths. I love you." Samantha talks to me through her mask to calm me. Her voice is shaking but soothing at the same time.

I try to take a breath, but there's another wave of sharp pain coming from my chest. "Doctor Bailey, my chest hurts. I can't breathe." I confess to her as I close my eyes. I hate admitting that I'm hurting but right now, it's needed. I can feel tears trickling down my face.

She opens her mouth to talk to me when someone else comes bursting into the room. "Doctor Sloan, we have multiple injuries to two minors." Doctor Bailey continues to talk but my mind stops on the name she just mentioned.

"Dad?" I ask quietly. "Dad!" I shout painfully so I can be heard.

"Michael?" The deep, familiar voice booms back at me like a beacon of light in a pitch black night. "Michael, what the hell happened?"

I open my eyes to see him hovering just to the right of me. "Dad, I'm so sorry. You told me not to ever get in a car with him but I didn't listen. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad. Please don't be mad at me." I sob at him.

"Hey, Michael, calm down. You need to calm down and breathe." He tells me, placing his hand on the top of my head to comfort me. "Breathe Michael. Samantha, what happened?" The anger is clear in his voice. "Explain to me how, how the hell this happened to him."

"Dad, leave her alone." My heart is racing and I'm sweating. It's never a good sign when this happens. "It's not her fault."

They both look down at me. I'm guessing they can tell what's about to happen. "Michael!"

My world turns black.

 **Third person POV**

 _The boy starts to shake violently. All the doctors around the girl and him jump into action. Using great force to move the man from his place next to the injured duo, attending to the screaming girl and the seizing boy. The blood starts to flow as to boys movements interfere with the connecting wound. The bone breaking the flesh of both of them, out of her and into him. From her arm to his chest. Its only now that the sheer depth of the injury is visibly, as the convulsing repeatedly creates a gap between the two youths._

 _The screams of the girl continue to pierce the air, despite the efforts of the young blonde doctor to calm and still her. The girl pulls away from the boy and the wounds disconnect in crack of sound, a spatter of blood hitting the blonde one. The rest of the doctors rush closer, lifting the girl off and removing her from the room._

 _Hands on the boys chest, trying to stop the bleeding. A new man with wavy brown hair and designer stubble is there at the boys head, trying to hold it still. The man has fear and familiarity plastered across his face, as if he knows the boy and has helped him with this before. His lips are moving softly, talking to the boy. His thumbs stroking to sides of the boys head, a small comfort as though from a loved one._

 _The boys body is still seizing uncontrollably, gagging, the blood still pouring. Frantic hands and voices speaking medical jargon. The worrying father standing against the wall, running his hands through his perfect hair, watching on as his peers try desperately to help his offspring. Tubes and wires everywhere, voices sounding all at the same time. Panic. Fear. Life. Death._

 **Mark's POV**

Why is he here? What's happened to him? This can't be real.

"Derek, help him!" I hear my own voice call out but I don't feel like I've spoken. "You're doing it wrong Stevens." I push the dithering resident out of the way to stand next to my son, holding the gauze to the gaping wound in his skinny body. It does no good as the gauze darkens immediately to a deep red and gushes other my fingers. He's so small. "Get these interns out of here now! I don't want them to see this. He won't want to be seen like this."

Doctor Bailey starts to cut away his sweater and shirt but stops briefly when she comes across the Ace bandages. "Is this boy already injured?" She asks in confusion.

"It's to-." I start to speak but fear cuts me off as if slitting my throat.

"It's to flatten his chest." Derek speaks up quietly without looking away from his patient, my boy. "Michael was born female. He's transgender. He binds his chest to hide his body. O'Malley, close the blinds. Make sure no one else comes in."

"This leg is going to need setting soon to prevent permanent damage." Callie speaks up from lower down the table.

Hahn also chimes in. "His breathing is compromised on the left side. Possible collapsed lung. I think keeping him breathing is more important then setting a bone, Doctor Torres."

"Lets not argue ladies. Grey, take over from Doctor Sloan." Bailey directs foetus Grey to come and take my place. "Big Grey, take over from Doctor Shepherd. Just hold his head still, comfort him. You two, outside. You're too involved."

I know she's talking to Derek and I but I'm not moving. This is my child. "I'm not going anywhere. This is my son. My seed. He needs me here."

"Mark, he'll be okay. They'll keep us updated." Derek puts a hand on my arm but I'm still not going with him. "Mark he needs medical attention, not his father. Meredith will keep us updated. We can sit outside."

This time he pulls my arm and I go with him, making no effort to fight him. He's right. I'm no help. I let my brother like figure lead me out of the room, the whole time I'm in a slight daze. I can't believe this is actually happening. We stop next to the wall opposite the door to trauma two and I slump against it, head in my hands. It's only know I feel the tiny tears trickle from my face. I don't care who sees me like this. All I care about is Michael.

. . .

 **Michael's POV**

The dampened murmur of voices breaks through my unconsciousness. The voices must be from another room, I can't make out what is being said but I know someone is talking. I feel as though my body is made of lead. Painful, constricting lead.

There's a tube in my throat, which surprises me because I'm not gagging. Wait, am I awake? Is this a coma? No. Fight the tube Michael.

I start choking, fighting against the tube that's invading my airway. As I fight my body moves as well, jolting stabs of pain all over me. A machine starts to frantically beep, a sound loud and throbbing in my ears.

A door slams opens, running feet then there's someone right next to me. "It's okay Michael. Calm down, relax." The blonde doctor is there, her name I can't remember. "You're okay. I need doctor Bailey in here now!" She takes the strap off my face that is holding the tube in place. "This'll be uncomfortable for just a second then it'll be out." She tells me.

She pulls on the tube. I feel like I might vomit for a second, then it's gone and I start to cough. I can feels tears rolling down my cheeks, leaking out from the force of retching. My body hurts and I feel exhausted, despite only just waking up. I try to take a moment to look around and see where the heck I am but when I do, the room begins to spin. Something is seriously wrong with me.

"You're okay, relax. It's all okay Michael." The soothing voice of a woman. A woman that's holding my hand, stroking it with her thumb.

I open my eyes to see a beautiful face peering at me. Blonde hair, brown eyes, super model features. Damn, I'm either dreaming or dead. She hands me a cup of water with a straw in it and smiles at me. I take a sip, water has never tasted so good.

"Well aren't you gorgeous." I tell her with a flash of a smile. If I'm dreaming, why not flirt?

She bursts out a laugh and takes the cup from me, placing it on the side table.

"Doctor Stevens!" The new voice shocks Brown Eyes out of her seat. "Is this a social event or is it a hospital?" I know the voice.

"A hospital Doctor Bailey, sorry." Brown Eyes replies, not looking up from the floor.

I take pity on this perfect looking human and turn towards the door to see the short angry looking doctor staring at us. "It's my fault Doctor Bailey. I went all freaked out and panicky with the tube in my throat. Doc Stevens was just making sure I'm okay is all." I reassure her with a flash of a smile.

"You are definitely a Sloan." She mumbles as she comes over and starts to check the machines. "Stevens, page Hahn and Shepherd. Let Sloan know his child is back with us."

"Oh there's no need. I don't want him here." I warn them. They both glance at me. "He's a jerk. I don't want him anywhere near me."

"Michael, he's worried about you. He's been in here every day in case you wake up." Brown eyes explains. "The only reason he's not here right now is because he's in surgery."

"He's always in surgery. Did he even tell anyone here about me?" I look between Bailey and Brown Eyes, both with glum faces. "I thought not. I'm sixteen and he's known about me since I was an embryo. Dang it, I lived with him since I was three. Until he decided to up and leave to come and find Uncle freaking Derek."

"That's a new one. Not just Uncle Derek but Uncle freaking Derek." I jump at the new but familiar voice.

"Uncle D." I can feel my face flush at being caught badmouthing one of the only decent guys I know. "Sorry." He smiles and chuckles softly.

I love this man and I'm not ashamed to say it. We're not biologically related but he's my Uncle through and through. He's looked after me when I was sick. He came to school pageants. He supported me when, at the age of four I told him I felt like a boy. My dad didn't know how to act. He thought I was just doing it for attention because he was never around. But Uncle Derek and Aunt Addison listened to me and helped me.

"Uncle D, where's Addie?" The reminiscing brings me back to the present time.

He doesn't answer, just comes over and starts to fuss with a bandage around my head that I didn't even know I had.

"How do you feel Michael?" He asks me without making eye contact.

I take a moment to go over my body and take into account the multiple injuries I have. Bandage on my head, throbbing headache. Neck is fine, shoulders are fine. Chest, no Ace bandages. Shit.

Uncle D can see the panic rise up in my face as I pull the blankets up like a shield. "We had to cut your bindings away due to an open chest injury. We made sure only the necessary people were in the room so only they know. Of course, your chart is still in your birth name and gender, so we have limited doctors and nurses coming in. That way only a handful of people will know about the situation. I chose them myself, they can all be trusted." He says with a smile, as if proud of himself.

I take in this information and the thoughtfulness of Uncle D. He really is caring and considerate which is a huge reason why I love him. I try to come up with an in depth loving speech to show my appreciation. "Thank you Uncle D." Is all I can summon up in a quiet voice.

He continues to check the dressings hiding the unknown injuries. I'm covered in them. I explore my memory, trying to remember what happened but I can't find anything in my foggy brain. It's as if someone has a vail wrapped around every different part of my mind. I sneak a quick glance at Brown Eyes whose stood reading my chart. Somewhere during the conversation between Uncle D and I, Doctor Bailey had left the room.

"What happened to me?" I ask them both. The lack of memory is starting to worry me a little.

"We'll go through that once I've finished here." Uncle D says without looking away from a bandage around my left arm. "Can you move the blanket Michael? I need to check on the bandage on your chest." I know he can see the uncertainty in my eyes. "The bandage covers the whole left side of your chest and abdomen. I just need to make sure the chest drain is still working correctly and check that the wound is clean and still closed. I also need to have a quick check of your abdomen. Okay?"

I hesitantly nod, already feeling uncomfortable with the examination about to take place.

I hate my body. I hate my chest. I'm skinny and short and so damn lucky my chest is tiny enough to be hidden with Ace bandages, but I still hate my body. My small shoulders, my curvy waist and sticky out hips. The lack of facial hair, Adam's apples and breaking voice are easy to hide by simply telling everyone I'm younger then I actually am. But my post puberty female body, it makes me feel sick to think about it. Whenever I look in the mirror, after I shower or while changing, I feel so wrong. Like a creep looking at a girls body without consent. I feel disgusting.

"Michael?" Uncle D placed a hand on my shoulder. "Would you prefer to have someone else do it? Doctor Stevens is more then capable if you'd rather I not carry out the examination. Or I can call another guy doctor? It's completely up to you." He gives my shoulder a squeeze and smiles.

"Um, whose Doctor Stevens?" I ask without really knowing what I'm asking.

Uncle D looks at Brown Eyes. "I'm Doctor Stevens, you can call me Izzie if you want." She tells me with another brilliant smile.

"Oh. My bad. Sure Doctor Izzie can do it. It's just a bit weird Uncle D. Sorry." I admit with a slight flush. He nods with a small, one sided smile and exits the room. I turn my attention to Brown Eyes. "So, are you like a super model?" I ask her with a grin.

She cracks out a laugh while she starts to fuss with the bandage on my chest. "No, I'm not a super model. But I did do a bit of modelling to pay for medical school."

"Oh." I didn't expect her to say that. "Well you're super hot." As I say this there's a stab in a chest so painful, I see stars.

I lay my head back and as I do, an image of Ryan slumped with his front half through the windshield of a car, bursts into my mind. He isn't moving and there so much blood.

"Oh my god, Ryan." I gasp for air as if I've been under water for hours. "Samantha, where's Samantha?"

I frantically try to get out of bed but I'm weighed down by something. I throw the covers back to see a huge plaster cast from hip to toe on my left leg. There's an alarm of some sort going off but I don't care. I have to find Samantha. Izzie is trying desperately to get me back into bed but the only place I'm going it out of here. I slip out of the bed and land on the floor with a thud. I can't breathe. I need my Samantha. I need my girl. I need to know she's safe and okay.

A face appears in front of me. Dad. "Michael, calm down." His stern voice breaks through my panic. "Look at me, calm down, now."

"Samantha." I huff out on a frantic breath.

He takes both my arms and holds me still, a pained look on his face. "She's gone, son. She's gone."

. . .

 **Okay so, what do y'all think? It's kind of a long chapter but longer is easier for me. I have a full time job so new chapters may only happen once a week but I will promise to try and make them long and worth waiting for.**

 **Don't forget, advise, suggestions and criticism are all welcome, along with follows and favourites :)**

 **Love y'all!**

 **Peace**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey y'all, me again. So here's chapter two. It's taking a little while to get into the root of the story but it'll get there within the next chapter or two. I'm already working on chapter three and other extracts from throughout. Addison will be in it later on but I'm sticking to the original Grey's storylines for now. We are going to see more about Michael and Samantha's backstory, what happened to Michael after Mark left and life when Michael was a toddler. It'll all be in here, just give me time to write it all out :)**

 **Again if there's any questions, please let me know. Thank you to those that wrote reviews, followed and favourited this story.**

 **Hope y'all enjoy.**

. . .

 **Chapter Two**

 **Third person POV**

 _The boy sobs uncontrollably against his fathers shoulder. The father, not use to emotional support, pats the boys back awkwardly. They're still on the floor, the boy sat uncomfortably with the father kneeling next to his weeping son. The blonde one has left the room, leaving the broken child to reign down tiny, pathetic punches on his elders chest. Punches that are not meant to hurt, more make a statement to say the boy isn't going to give up. Even with the punches, the father stays exactly where he is, comforting to boy._

 _There's a knock at the door but the father yells for the extra person to leave. He doesn't want anyone to see his child in this state. He doesn't want weakness to show through on a person who otherwise is strong, despite the extent of injuries he has received recently. The boy is in no immediate medical danger so the father sees no point in there being any other doctors or nurses in the room, only him and his offspring._

 _He shushes the boy, now rubbing his back instead of patting it. The event seems to break down the mans hard exterior and bring out some emotion and love towards the young man. There's pain on his face as he watches the punching stop and the sobbing get quieter. There's an unspoken bond here, a bond that goes beyond father and son. There's more to these two then meets the eye._

 **Mark's POV**

I hate to see my boy crying. Over a girl no less. He's got a lot to learn. At least he's stop hitting me. He's so small. He's tall for his age but he's damn skinny, almost unhealthy. Eyes identical to my own peer back at me, full of tears.

"Michael," I say in a quiet voice. "We need to get you back in the bed." Without giving him a chance to argue, I scoop up his almost weightless body and place him on the bed. I can feel his bones through his gown. "When did you last have a full meal?" I can't help my concern.

"Don't start with the questions." He snaps at me. "Get out. I don't want you here. Get out!"

"Mikey, you're not being rational. You need me." He's being stupid.

"I don't need you, I use to need you. When I was five and I told you I felt like a boy, do you even remember what you did? You laughed at me! You freaking laughed at me. I needed you then. When you left me two years ago, in New York with our neighbour that you don't even fucking know! I needed you then too. I cried. Every night for weeks. I cried and thought it was my fault that you left. That you'd abandoned me again. I don't need you now. Get out, get out, get out!" He ends, screaming at me.

He's never spoken to me like that before. When he was younger and had tantrums he would scream and shout, but this is different. He's really angry at me. I think he really hates me. The door opens opposite me and Bailey comes in, her face full of anger.

"Doctor Bailey, can you get him out of here please?" Michael snaps at her. "I don't want him here."

She looks up at me. "You heard the boy."

"Bailey you can't be serious. He needs me."

"I don't think he does Sloan. He has no cuts that need suturing and he definitely does not need any form of plastic surgery. I'm sure he'll be just fine for a lil bit on his own. Now are you gonna leave or am I gonna have to call security?" She says bluntly.

Unbelievable.

 **Michael's POV**

The door slamming is a sure sign that he's gone. "Thank you." I murmur to her.

"He loves you Michael. I can see it in those smug eyes of his. Sit forward." She comes over and places a stethoscope on my back. "Deep breaths in and out."

I do as she asks, every time I take a breath, there's a tiny stab of pain in the left side of my chest. She lays the stethoscope back around her neck and pushes me back slightly so I'm resting back against the bed, then she pats my shoulder.

"Hows it sound?" I ask her. "It hurts a little when I breath in."

She's nods, acknowledging what I said and writes something on my chart. "That's normal considering the extent of your chest injury."

"Yeah about that. Can you tell me what actually happened? No one has said anything to me yet. They keep brushing it off." I'm getting worried that there's something seriously wrong with me.

"Well, ideally we need your father in here as well because you're a minor. But you seem not to like him too much. Do you have any other family here at the hospital?" She's asks but I think she already knows the answer.

"Yeah. Uncle D is here right? Um, Doctor Shepherd? Neuro guy. He's not in surgery is he? If he is, I can wait. Unless I'm dying. Then I'd prefer you to tell me now. 'Cause like, I don't wanna waste a second if I'm dying. Am I dying?" I start to ramble from nerves.

"You are not dying, as far as I'm aware. Doctor Shepherd is not currently in surgery. I'll page him for you now. Is there anything else? Do you have any questions for me?" She seems like she's pissed about something.

"No thanks. And um, thank you for kicking my dad out." I can't stand him right now.

She just nods and walks out, leaving me on my own for the first time in what seems like forever.

It's only now that I can take into account the injuries that I have. The ridiculously big cast on my left leg is the first thing I think about. My hip hurts as well. Possibly dislocated, possibly badly broken. Either way it sucks. My butt feels fine, maybe bruised from the lil trip I just took down to the floor but that's nothing. I only then realise that I have a catheter in, which is both gross and uncomfortable. But it also means I've been unconscious for a period of time. My abdomen aches more then anything. No idea what's going on there. My head aches as well, and there's a bandage around it so maybe open head fracture, but I doubt it. Probably just a laceration and a knock. It's my chest that hurts the most. The stabbing pains as I breathe, the discomfort at there being a foreign body in there.

Knowing that there are people here that know about my body makes me want to throw up. No one is supposed to know about my body and no one is supposed to see it until I've finished making it. I'm a self made man, or at least I will be when I get on hormones and have my surgeries. Right now, I just feel wrong. Ive never met anyone that is like me. I want to, I'd love to meet other transgender people, I just don't know where they are. I feel like I'm on my own.

The door opening makes me jump and snaps me out of my depressive state. "Hello Michael, feeling any better?" Uncle D asks me as he comes in smiling, followed by a young looking girl with dark blond hair in a pony tail. "This is Doctor Grey, she's going to be explaining your injuries and the recovery process we have for you. Is that okay?"

Not really, no. "Sure." I say with little enthusiasm. I can't tell her to get out. She looks super excited. Kind of like a child at Christmas.

"Okay then. Doctor Grey, please present." Uncle D looks at her with a smug smile. They're either having sex with each other or they want to and it's so gross to witness.

"Michael Sloan, sixteen years old, came in ten days ago with extensive injuries to chest and abdomen from a head on collision." She pauses for a breath but I cut in.

"Ten days ago? How have I been here for ten days? She's wrong. It was only earlier when I came in. I remember seeing the hot blonde doctor and, it was only earlier today." I hate feeling like this. Like I'm out of control and there's no way of gaining it back.

"Michael, calm down please. Let Doctor Grey finish." Uncle D says as he places his hand on my shoulder and nods to the girl doctor.

"Dislocation of the left femur which was also broken. The surgery to reset the femur went well, Doctor Torres did an excellent job. Open chest injury due to a foreign body being lodged in the left side of the rib cage. The left lung was punctuated but is now fine with there being a chest tube to help drain any remaining fluid. The injury to the abdomen was internal which is why it was missed when Michael first came in, but was found during the surgery to fix his ribs. The spleen had ruptured causing a lot of bleeding so we removed the spleen and the bleeding resolved. The head injury was just a minor laceration. The patient was having fits of outrage and confusion, resulting in further injuring his abdomen, so with the parents permission the patient was sedated for a period of ten days." She finished her speech with a smile, which to be honest, isn't the best way to finish a speech about almost dying.

I feel betrayed. "He had me sedated? Why?" It hurts me to know he would choose to do that, even if there was a legitimate reason. Uncle D sighs and gives me a weak smile.

"He did. You were hysterical Mikey, crying and screaming. No one could calm you down. Nothing anyone said would make you stop." It seems to hurt him to tell me this but I don't understand why. He's not the one that was screwed over.

"But why don't I remember any of this? The last thing I remember is when I first got here, with Samantha." The mention of her name chokes me up. I feel like my throats been slit just thinking about her.

"The brain works in mysterious ways. Physically, medically your brain is fine. Emotionally, we believe that you've blocked out the events to protect yourself. It happens quite often, especially in young people and children who go through a traumatic event. The events of the car accident and what followed it were probably very stressful for you. There's a chance that you'll remember them in time, but if you don't it's okay." He tries to reassure me but something isn't right.

"Do you need me to simplify any of the medical jargon for you so you understand?" Doctor Grey asks me innocently to which Uncle D snorted a laugh.

"No no, I get it. Basically I'm lucky to be alive. Any number of things could have killed me. The punctured lung could of compromised my breathing to the point where I go into cardiac arrest. My hip dislocation could have caused massive internal bleeding, which again would result in death. And my shitty bleeding spleen, if gone undetected, could also have resulted in my being dead. About right Uncle D?" I ask bluntly, Doctor Grey looking at me in a slight state of surprise. Uncle D just nods to answer my question.

"Then why don't I feel lucky? Why do I feel like I failed Samantha? I was supposed to keep her safe, keep her out of danger and I failed." I can feel my eyes feeling up with tears so I rest my forehead on Uncle D's bright white doctors coat. Damn I'm emotional. "She's dead because of me." I sob into Uncle D's shoulder.

There's silence between the both of them as if they're too scared to say anything and interrupt my pathetic crying. I can't believe she's actually gone. And I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to her or tell her I love her one last time. I didn't even get the chance to show her how much I love her. We were waiting for the right time and we just never got to it. We got damn close, but we never actually got there.

"Michael, Samantha isn't dead." Doctor Grey says with confusion in her voice.

"Yes she is. I know she is. Mark said she's gone." I sniff loudly like a giant toddler who doesn't know how to blow their own nose properly.

"She is gone, but she's not dead." My head shots up and I stare at her. "Her father came and took her back to New York a week ago."

I look up at Uncle D to confirm what Doctor Grey has just said. "It's true Mikey. I'm sorry." This is worse then her being dead.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask in astonishment as I swipe at the tears on my cheeks.

"Her father took her back to New York." Doctor Grey says again. My heart sinks. Her being dead would have been better for her, instead of being back with her father.

"Michael, what's wrong?" Uncle D asks me. "Surely her being alive is a good thing." He says in confusion.

"Uncle D, her father is a drunk." I tell them quietly. I close my eyes as if it'll help the situation. "He's abusive. He hates me. Says I'm a freak of nature and she's not allowed to spend time with me. He said, he said that if he ever found out she had hung out with me again he'd kill her. He never backs down from somethings like that. He'll kill her Uncle D."

. . .

 **So bit of a cliff hanger there. Like I said at the beginning give me a few more days and the third chapter will be here with some insight into Samantha's story and how her and Michael ended up in Seattle Grace Hospital.**

 **Again, reviews are welcome.**

 **Thanks y'all.**

 **Peace**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Im so, so sorry its taken so long to update this story! Ive had so much going on in my live including my first appointment at the Gender Identity Clinic in London, my baby niece being born, problems at work and problems with relapses. But its all okay! The update is here, I promise not to leave it so long next time.**

 **I am however having a slight bit of trouble with the time line of things. Im struggling trying to tie the events in the episodes with Michael's healing time and things. Some things are probably going to out slightly, so you've been warned!**

 **Im always open to suggestions on improvements and possible story lines. Im trying to get the Third Person POV in there as well but I'm not sure how well that is going. If you like it, good. If not please let me know and Ill try to improve it or ill try something else.**

 **Also I am very aware that this is a very short update but please bare with me. My mind has been like a black hole lately, I'm only just now getting back on track with things.**

 **So anyway, enjoy!**

 **. . .**

 **Michael's POV**

I can hear an alarm. A car alarm? Its loud and pounding, like I have my ear against it. I can also hear screaming. Why is there so much noise? Whats going on? I try to move but I can't. Im pinned by something. Something heavy and warm. I try to open my eyes but it's such a struggle. The screaming gets louder as I force my eyes open. Theres blue lights, bright and flashing like beacons. The alarm is definitely a car alarm but theres also another noise, sirens of some sort. The screaming stops.

"Michael?" the voice shouts at me. It's a voice that I don't know. "Michael, I need you to stay awake for me and try not to move." The mysterious voice tells me.

I take in a breath so I can reply to the stranger but as I do, I get a horrendous pain in my chest. All I can do is let out a small whimper.

"Michael, don't move." The voice is more stern this time.

The screaming then stops and the heavy weight above me moves. "Mikey! Baby you're awake. You're okay?" This voice I know. It's usually soft and sweet, full of love and smooth as silk, but this time its panicked and breathy.

I take in another breathe but again I get the sharp stab in my chest, forcing a squeak out of me.

"Michael baby stay still, it hurts when you move," the panicky angel voice tells me.

I blink for a few seconds to focus my eyes. Looking around I see the interior of a car, but everything is upside down. I can smell smoke, hear sirens and see blood. My eyes continue to roam around the restricted view in front of me and they settle on Ryan. His lower half still in the car, lying there with glass sticking out at all angles. His front half hanging out of the car with open, glazed eyes staring back at me. His face is covered in blood, a huge shard of glass protruding from his neck.

. . .

 **Mark's POV**

I don't understand why he doesn't want to see me. Im his father, I'm not someone he can turn down. I mean, sure I haven't been there for him sometimes when he's needed me, but thats not the point. He needs me now and I'm here, I don't understand what his problem is. I hate to see him like this, in pain and upset over a girl. It's not worth it. Ive told him that countless times but he never listens. He's a true ladies man like myself. He needs to realise that things like this will happen throughout his life and he has to live with them. That girl is just the beginning.

This stupid magazine with Shep's photoshopped face on it is seriously bugging me, lying on the table smiling up at me. Stupid clinic trial bullshit. I look up at the sound of the door being opened and someone coming in.

"I bought you a coffee. If you're not going to sleep, you need fuel." Callie told me as she handed the coffee cup to me. "You need to find a way to get back in that boys life before you loose him completely Mark." She tells me matter of factly.

"Don't you think I know that, Torres? Don't you think I know that I've ruined almost every single chance to show that boy that I love him and care for him? He loves Shepherd more then he loves me and Im his father!" Out of anger at my past actions, I pick up the stupid magazine with Shep's face on it and throw it at across the room.

Callie sighs next to me. "Thats not going to help matters Mark. You fucked up. We all do from time to time, some of us more then others, especially when it comes to going down on someone," she mumbles the last bit.

"Callie, no offence, but hearing about you fake, nasty, not really sex, sex isn't going to make me feel better about things. I need help with Michael."

Callie opens her mouth to console me but she's cut off by an almighty scream, one that I know all too well.

 **Third person POV**

 _There is already a nurse at the boys side, trying to calm him, prevent him from causing more damage to his wounds. As the nurse talks firmly to the boy, with no affect, a tall, handsome man in navy blue scrubs and a shorter, beautiful woman in light blue burst through the door. The man goes straight to boys side, talking softly to him as if talking to a sleeping child. The woman takes the medical chart from the bottom of the bed, scanning over it briefly with a frown on her brow. The boys erratic behaviour and screams draw more attention from staff outside the room with people peering through the door and window. The woman in blue moves the nurse away from the boy and lowers her face level with his. She shouts slightly at him, snapping the boy out of his terrified trance, tears rolling down his face, pale as a sheet, eyes wide. Once the boys breathing regulates, he explains the nightmare to the pair in blue, the nurse leaving after the man told her to. With trembling voice and uneven breaths, he details what He remembers from the crash._

 _. . ._

 _Several days passed and the boy seemed to develop a routine of nightmares and panic attacks. The time when he was awake was spent with him staring blankly at the wall or floor. He refused to eat and drink which resulted in him having to an IV for fluids. It seemed that the news of his girlfriend being taken back home by her father has shut the boy down. As if the girl was the battery and without, the boy does not work. His injuries are showing little to no sign of healing, a few of the nurses and doctors believe this is down to the boy not having a positive mental attitude about becoming well again. However the father, uncle and orthopaedic surgeon do not believe this to be the case. They put it down to the injuries being so severe, the boy just needs more time to heal. The boy has no opinion on the matter._

 _He still refused to see his father, despite the efforts that the older man made to get back in his sons life. He speaks no words when his father is around but continuously presses the call button for a nurse when his father is in the room, leaving the nurses no choice but to escort the man away. The boy has no problem with his uncle-like-figure being in the room though. He soothes the boy with his voice as the boy sleeps, telling him stories of when the boy was younger and how they use to play together with cars and trucks. The uncle is more of a father figure then the boys actual father, he would do anything for the sick minor. Anything at all, to make him happy and well again._

 **Samantha's POV**

"Dad you're wrong, it's not Michael's fault." Ive told my father countless times that the accident wasn't because of Michael, but he refuses to believe that Ryan was drunk while driving. It pains me every time I think about Ryan, slumped through the windscreen.

I watch my father pace back and forth in the tiny, dingy one bedroom apartment, cringing as I scan over his dirty discoloured vest covering his rotund belly. His blading head is greasy with hair wax from trying to get what little hair he has left to cover the naked flesh atop. huge, baggy boxer shorts and grimy slippers complete his appearance, along with a badly rolled cigarette in-between his lips and a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, bruised knuckles white with his grip on the bottle neck. my father is vile man, not someone you could be proud to admit was your father, and most definitely not someone you could love.

"Don't you answer back to me, you ungrateful little brat." He tells me through gritted teeth. "Your brother was a saint compared to that fucked up little freak."

He hates Michael. My father is one of these assholes that believe people of colour should go back to where they came from. he refused to acknowledge the fact most of the people he talks about actually from America, so most of his arguments are just pure racist and in my view his opinion is invalid. he downright hates anything that isn't ordinary, in his book. gay marriage, transgender people, gay adoption, interracial marriage, even foreign food. he sticks with his burgers and hot dogs.

When he first found out about Michael, he laughed and called him a freak. He prohibited me from seeing him, but of course it didn't work. I loved Michael and I knew it from when we first met outside the ladies restroom in Denny's. Ryan liked Michael, but would make digs at him all the. I believe it was more down to his upbringing then how he actually felt.

"My brother was a drunk and an asshole that-," Im cut off by a slap across the face from my father. I see stars for a second or two and have a burn in my cheek but I look straight back at him. "Your son was far from a saint. He was a bully, a drunk and an abuser. Just like you," this time I just managed to duck his punch.

"You little bitch! How dare you speak ill of the dead!" he screams at me, spit flying from his foul mouth. He grabs my hair and throws me to the floor. Out of instinct, I put my arms out to brace myself. I'm greeted by a stab of pain shooting up my broken, misshaped arm. The sudden movement makes me cry out involuntarily.

"I'll teach you a lesson, you waste of space," he threatens.

I brace myself as his foot comes into contact with my stomach, forcing the air out of my body and squeezing a tiny scream out of me. He pulls his foot back fora second kick but is interrupted by a loud knock on the door, much to my delight. He wont risk hurting me if theres even a slight chance of someone seeing or hearing.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut, bitch," he warns me quietly. I sit up slightly, listening to conversation about to take place. "Can I help you?" my father asks with obviously fake charm.

"Hello, my name is Derek Shepherd. Im here to take your daughter away from you."

. . .

 **Soo there it is! Another cliff hanger, I know, I'm so mean. I know its very short, but honestly, this was as far as I could get at the moment and I wanted to update you guys so far. Sorry if it's a bit scatterbrained. Hope you like it. Feedback is greatly appreciated.**

 **I will see y'all very soon, already working on the next chapter as we speak. Or read. Whatever.**

 **Thanks, love y'all.**

 **Peace.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, hate me all you want for not updating sooner. That's fine, I deserve it. But I'm back now and I promise, pinky promise even, that it won't be as long next time. Addison will be in it soon. I already have that written! I just need to tie it in with the rest.**

 **This update is not beta'ed and I kinda rushed it so apologies for errors but you get the idea. It's a little shorter then I would have hoped but that's fine.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter Four**

 **Samantha's POV**

The stranger pushes his way through the door and into our grubby apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. His face looks familiar to me. He grabs the bottle of whiskey out of my fathers hand and throws it across the room, smashing it against the wall.

"How dare you?" my father practically screams at him.

"How dare I? How dare you? How dare you treat a child, your child like that? Of all the things I despise in this world, you've become top of the list." The stranger jabs his finger into my father chest as he speaks.

My father slaps the uninvited finger away and is greeted with a punch, straight to his face. The result is a pop and a gush of blood flowing from his crooked nose. I cant help a small smile creep onto my lips at watching my father get the same treatment that I've had since I can remember.

"You broke my fucking nose," he says in shock. "I'll have you locked up for that, you stuck up little reject."

The stranger barks out a laugh and turns to me. "Samantha, get your things please. I'm taking you back to Seattle with me." he tells me with a soft smile.

Something clicks in my brain. "You're from the hospital. Michael's uncle, right?"

"Yes, thats right. You're coming back with me and you never have to come back here again." He says to me, reaching out a hand for me to take.

 **Third Person POV**

 _The young girl is hesitant and stares at the hand for a few seconds before taking it. She tells the unfamiliar man that she has no things to take with her, except for the clothes she is wearing and a pair of worn shoes by the door._

 _The man leads the youth out of the apartment, down the flight of paint chipped steel stairs and towards the light coloured car that he had hired. Once they are both sat in the front of the car with safety belts buckled, the man sighs in relieve. He tells the girl that he had pictured that going differently and that he's glad she decided to go with him. The thought of leaving her there with that disgusting man was too much for him to cope with._

 _The drive to the airport was short and the man was grateful that the girl had not developed a fear of cars after the horrendous accident. She seemed extremely relaxed and happy to finally be away from her father. Buying flight tickets and boarding wasn't a problem for the duo. The girl could not stop thanking the doctor for his help, although he assured her it was no big deal._

 _Thoughts raced through the mans mind. Things like how the disgusting father would react to his daughter being taken away. Would he come after his child? It's unlikely considering how little he cares for his offspring. The handsome doctor was more then certain that he would never see the vile man again. He could not help the small smile of smug achievement creep onto his lips._

 _. . ._

 **Derek's POV**

I sigh in relieve as I pull up the car outside of Meredith's house. Turning off the ignition and removing my key, I turn to the young girl next to me. I can't believe how much she's slept during the car journey and the flight. Thank god she doesn't need a passport to fly between states. I don't mind paying for a flight for someone that is going to make Michael happy and healthy again. I know he'll appreciate it and it'll definitely aid his recovery to have her here with us. Of course it'll aid her recovery also to be able to get hospital appointments.

"Samantha," I place my hand on her shoulder to wake her up and she jumps a mile, pressing herself against the door and staring at me wide eyed. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to," I don't know what to say, shocked from her reaction. "We're here." I tell her simply, nodding towards the house.

Her cheeks flush slightly as she looks past me and up to the house. Her eyes widen and I can see them darting around the exterior. "Dang, that place is huge." She whispers.

"Come on, I'll make you a sandwich if you're hungry." She must be hungry, she's so skinny so looks sick.

 **Samantha's POV**

I don't understand why this guy is being so nice. I know he knows Michael and I know he's a doctor but thats about it. Do I trust him? What if he's a serial killer or a rapist?

"Um, can I see Michael?" I ask the stranger hesitantly. I don't want to make him mad, after all I don't actually know this guy at all.

"Wouldn't you rather eat something first?" He asks me, looking concerned.

"I'd really like to see Michael. Is he okay?" Maybe the doctor is being so nice because something has happened to him.

"He's," he pauses trying to find the right words. "He's struggling Samantha. When he found out your father had come to take you back home, he pretty much shut down. Shall we talk more about it inside? I think it'd be best if I fill you in on all the details before we head to the hospital." He seems like a genuinely nice guy so I suppose I could trust him.

. . .

I feel awful. Michael is going through so much right now and its all because of me. My poor boy. The doctor, he said I can call him Derek, told me all about how Michael has just withdrawn from everything. He's not eating, not drinking and not communicating with anyone about anything. His healing has slowed down so much because he's not looking after himself. The last time this happened to him, it was so bad. It didn't last for long thank god but it was agony to see him like that. I can only imagine it must be worse now because of all the injuries he has as well.

Its now evening and Derek is showering ready for work. He's working a night shift or something and when he heads into work he's offered to take me with him so I can go and see Michael. It's not visiting hours but with Mikey having family in the hospital and with Derek's permission, I should be allowed to stay the night.

This is his girlfriends house I think and I'm not even sure if he lives here. He's definitely spent a lot of time here because he really knows his way around the place. The kitchen is massive as well and I think he mentioned something about four other people living here with his girlfriend.

I'm currently sat on the couch looking around at the huge living space. Who ever lives her must be rich as fuck. Derek quizzed me on a few things about Michael but mostly about the car accident. I told him as much as I knew but he still wants me to speak to a guy to Mark about it. Mark is Michael's father but I don't understand why Michael hasn't told them himself. Why is it up to me to tell everyone how my brother is a drunk driver and nearly killed my boyfriend and I and killed himself? I don't want to think about it anymore then I have to. I'm just happy Michael will be okay soon.

Derek was nice enough to let me shower here and lend me a pair of his girlfriends sweatpants and a hoodie so I don't show up to the hospital looking awful.

"Ready to go?" Derek asks me from the stairs.

"Yeah. Um, are you sure I'm allowed to come with you?" I don't want him to get into trouble for him bringing me to work.

He flashes me a smile, "Of course you're allowed. I know the chief of surgery, you'll be fine."

He starts to head out of the house and I follow him. Chief of surgery? Damn, friends in high places.

 **Michael's POV**

Why wont these people just let me die? I don't want to live in a world with my Sammy. She's my life. Her dad will have killed her by now, I just know it. He's an abusive asshole. I hate being here. People are coming to work to try and help me and I don't want their help. They have other patients to deal with, I'm not worth the fuss. I've had so many dreams of Sammy being here. She'll be stood in the doorway and she'll smile her brilliant smile and she'll tell me loves me. Then she'll just disappear. It's always the same. And with the dreams about her and the nightmare from the car crash, I hate it.

"Michael?" I look up to see Uncle D standing by the door. He smiles and comes in the stand next to me. "How're you feeling?" He asks me but I don't answer him.

I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't even want to be awake right now.

"Mikey?" An angels voice calls out to me. I'm dreaming again. "Michael baby, don't be rude. Answer him."

I frown. That's new, She's never told me off in dreams before. I look over and she's stood in the doorway, my girl, my Samantha. I smile at her and she smiles back.

"I love you." I tell her and her smiles grows.

"I love you too. Now answer Derek."

This is so weird. Is this a dream?

 **Derek's POV**

Seeing Michael smile and hearing him talk lifts a weight of my shoulders. I really thought we were going to have to get psych down here. Although, he does look a little confused.

"If this is a dream, get out." He says to me. "Why are you in a dream of me and my girlfriend?" He frowns. He really thinks he's dreaming.

"You're wide awake Michael." I tell him.

Without saying anything, Samantha almost runs over to Michael's bed and throws herself at him. I hold back from telling her to be careful not to hurt him, they're young and in love. I'm not going to interrupt that. I silently leave the room closing the door behind me. Torres is heading over but I stop her in her tracks.

"I'd wait if I were you." I tell her before she barges into the room like she does sometimes.

"Why?"

"Samantha is in there." I tell her simply.

"The girlfriend?" I nod yes and she smiles. "Well maybe now we can get some physiotherapy going for both of them. Way to go, Uncle D." she smirks at me before walking away.

 **Michael's POV**

I can't believe she's here. I can't believe she's back. She's in my arms. She's back. She's mine. She pulls away and looks at me.

"You need to pull yourself together Michael Everett." She chastises me. "What do you think you're doing refusing help for all these wonderful doctors who are trying to help you?"

I don't know what to say. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd lost you. I can't lose you." I whisper to her and she just hugs me again and kisses my cheek.

"You're so silly." She tells me as she snuggles next to me on the giant hospital bed.

The next couple of hours were spent with Samantha and I simply talking about pointless things. We hadn't let each other go since she got here. I cant have her disappearing again. She told me about how awesome Uncle Derek was with her father and how Uncle D probably broke her fathers nose. I couldn't help but smile at that and Sammy laughed as well. I can't believe he paid for her flight here as well. He's super awesome and caring and its why I love him. She told me off for not talking with Mark but why should I? Why should I get attached to my father when he left me with a stranger so he could come here? He's never helped me or known what to do when things get shit. He's just ran away. I explained all of this to Samantha, but she doesn't care. She said Im lucky to have a father that cares and I should forgive him and move on. We'll see. Maybe that'll happen, maybe not.

I love this crazy girl with everything I have and I'm pretty sure she loves me too. It's one of the best feelings in the world to know that someone loves you for who you are. She's fallen asleep next to me still holding my hand with her good one. I remember hearing Doctor Torres mention something to the other doctors about Sammy needing surgery on there arm because of the type of break it is. Hopefully they can get it fixed for her.

Right now all I care about is that I have my soul mate back and in my arms. Maybe tonight I wont have nightmares. Maybe my sleep will be filled with dreams of her and happiness. With that thought in mind, I close my eyes and slowly, happily drift off to sleep.

 **So yeah. Bit all over the place with all the POVs but you get the idea right? Just trying to tie off that bit so I can move on to be honest.**

 **Reviews are welcome and again, I apologise for leaving it so long.**

 **Peace**

 **Michael**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright ya'll, hate me, curse me, put some voodoo charm shit on me. Do whatever to me for not updating in such a long time. I'm so, so sorry that it's been like over a month since the last update and to be honest I don't really have an excuse. Except life is kicking my ass right now. But that's about it.**

 **So I know people are asking for more Addison and Michael and that's coming in either the next chapter, or the chapter after that. There will be snippets from the past about also from the present time.**

 **Anyway, I won't keep you any longer.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 **Michael's POV**

It's been a couple of weeks since Uncle Derek brought Samantha back to Seattle and to be honest I still cant really believe he went all that way to rescue her. The doctors have been awesome here and they've allowed us to have another bed moved into the room that I'm in so Samantha and I can stay close. We both said we didn't mind sharing a bed but apparently we're not allowed to do that because it might interfere with our healing or something.

We're still on a kids ward, which kinda sucks because there are some really sick children here and it's really sad. I know Samantha and I are still minors but I thought we might at least be able to be in a room that doesn't have cartoon animals on the walls. But whatever, I guess they're kinda cute.

Also on the plus side, because I have so many close 'family' member working in the hospital, we don't need to constantly have someone with us. So long as they pop in every now and then to check on us and we go to them if something is wrong, they're happy and Sammy and I are happy. It's a real benefit because it means that when someone isn't in here with us, Sammy and I can cuddle in the same bed. And when I say cuddle, I really mean cuddle. With maybe the odd kiss.

The bandage around my head has been taken off because the cuts I have are pretty much fully healed now. They'll probably scar slightly but that's fine. My chest isn't feel fantastic still but we've been able to reduce the bandages a huge amount so I basically just have a pretty big sticky bandaid on my stomach from my splenectomy and another bigger one on my chest. My chest drain has been taken out so I'm super happy about that because it felt kinda weird and I can breathe pretty well now as well.

Doctor Torres has been super awesome about my leg as well. She said the break was relatively straight forward so she was able to put a plate and screws in. I wanted to take the plaster cast off but she said I have to wait a couple more weeks just to make sure everything is fully healed.

Uncle Derek has been super cool as well because he went out and bought Sammy and I a bunch of clothes so we didn't have to wear these horrible hospital gowns. He bought Sam a couple pairs of sweatpants, hoodies and some tee shirts and tank tops. He bought me a couple baggy hoodies so I can cover myself up, some tees and some basketball shorts. Obviously he bought me some undies too but not Sam because she usually wears mine which I think it's totally sexy.

I've been allowed out of my hospital room but usually only for a half hour because I get tired really quickly so I haven't really gone far. It totally sucks because there's only so much you can do in one room.

To be honest, I don't want to go too far right now because apparently we have a serial killer in the hospital. Uncle D has been really worked up about it because of what happened to his dad and I don't blame him. I'd be stressed out too. Knowing that there's a serial killer here, it doesn't really scare me. What scares me is knowing that he can willing kill a bunch of people. I don't understand how people can do it. I also don't understand why the hospital is trying to help him when he's going to anyway on death row. But whatever, I guess I'm just a kid that doesn't really know much.

I'm bored as hell right now, Samantha is over in physiotherapy right now for her arm. She had a pretty bad break and without having surgery, she had some muscle damage or something with it. So she needs help to try and gain full function in her hand and fingers.

I've just finished my breakfast and I'm waiting for Samantha to get back so we can cuddle. That's literally all we've been doing when we're not sleeping or having physiotherapy. Cuddles are the bomb, especially with Samantha.

My thoughts are broken when the door to my room opens and Uncle Derek comes in looking pissed off about something.

"Hey Uncle D, how's it going with that jackass serial killer?" I ask him straight up, knowing full well that's why he's pissed.

"It's awful." He mumbles as he comes over and slumps in the chair next to my bed. It must be bad if he's not even going to try and chastise me for cursing. He leans over and takes my apple juice, drinking it down in one go.

"Hey!" I shout at him. "I was saving that." I wasn't but whatever.

"I'll get you some more at lunch time." He tells me with a sigh.

"Uncle D, it's not just the serial killer that's pissed you off, is it?"

"No, it isn't." He sighs again and leaves forward with his elbows on his knees. "My moms in town."

"What? Grammy Shepherd is here? Like right now?" I ask in shock. I miss that woman so much but she also scares me.

He gives me a weak smile. "Not right now, she'll be here later."

"Damn. Does she know I'm here?"

"Yep."

"Ah, Uncle D, you know she'll never leave now right?"

He doesn't get a chance to answer because Samantha comes in with a huge grin on her beautiful face.

"Hey babe. Doctor Shepherd." She says with a small nod to both of us.

She walks over and I can't help but reach up to grab her shirt and pull her down for a kiss. She grins against my lips and I laugh.

"I missed you." I tell my gorgeous girl as she sits on the bed next to me.

"I missed you too handsome." She whispers as she brushes a few strands of hair off of my forehead.

"So, Michael, your father has asked me to come and talk to you about something." Uncle Derek speaks up.

"Oh?" Now this should be good.

"He thinks it would be a good idea for you to go back with my mom so you can fully recover and continue with school." He tells me quietly.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"No. It's not happening Uncle D. I nearly freaking died trying to get here so I could find you and Mark and Aunt Addie and she isn't even here but no one thought to tell me! You're trying to get rid of me and it's not happening." I blurt out to him.

"Hey, calm down babe." Sammy tells me quietly, running her hand through my hair.

"But I don't wanna leave."

"It wont be forever, just until you finish with school and then you can move out here to be you father and I on a permanent basis."

There's something in his voice that tells me this wasn't his idea. This has dad written all over it.

"Why doesn't he want me?" I ask my Uncle. "Why is he always abandoning me?"

"Michael, it's not like that." Uncle Derek reaches over to take my hand and squeezes it for good measure. "Just think it over."

And with that he ups and leaves the room. Samantha sighs and lays her head on my shoulder taking my hand and bringing it up to her lips. She places a small kiss on my knuckles then rests my hand back in my lap and snuggles up close to my side. She turns so she's lying on her side and I wrap my arm around as best I can without putting too much strain on my body. She rests her bed arm across my hips, out of the way so neither of us can get hurt. We're a tangle of injuries and love, affection and lust. I love it. I love her.

"I've missed this. I've missed being so close to you." She whispers to me.

"I've missed it too. Try to get some sleep beautiful, you haven't been sleeping well." I tell her as I move my hand to her back rubbing up and down.

"Nightmares." She whispers again.

"I know honey, it's okay. I'm here. I love you." I bend my head slightly to place a kiss on the top of her head, my lips lingering a couple of seconds. Samantha hums out a reply and I know she's almost asleep.

I take the opportunity to close my eyes and try and get some rest as well. Having serious, life threatening injuries kinda takes a lot of effort. Sleep is a lot easier to come by when you've almost died.

. . .

"Michael Everett Sloan," a stern female voice rips me from my slumber. "Get you hand off of that young lady's backside."

I immediately remove my hand from Samantha's butt, force my eyes open and lift my head to see the familiar face of Grammy Shepherd. She looks totally different to when I last saw her. Her hair is different, she looks older but not in a bad way. Her face matching the tone she just used to chastise me.

"Grammy Shepherd." I can't help but beam at her.

I love this woman. She's stern but I guess she had to be with raising five kids by herself, well six if you include my dad. I know he had a pretty shit childhood and he spent a lot of time over with Uncle Derek and his family. In a really selfish way, I'm glad because it means that I've had the chance to be part of that family as well.

For the first three years of my life I lived with my birth mother. She had a really had time with me and even though my dad apparently knew about me, he also apparently didn't care for me. Which you know, obviously hurts me quite a lot.

My mother struggled with trying to put food on the table and care for me properly and she was extremely selfish so she decided to only think of herself. She used to do things for guys so she could get money and those guys used to treat me and my mother really badly. But she didn't care. Drugs got a hold of her and she very quickly lost interest in making sure I was healthy and well looked after.

The guys that she had over would use me as basically a punching bag and an ashtray. You know, it sucked and all but I don't remember barely any of it. I only know this stuff because not long after my third birthday, my mother must have had a change of heart or a sober moment. She finally realised that the way I was being brought up and the conditions I was living in were not good for me. She took me to a random house that I'd never been to before and left me on the doorstep. That's how I met my dad for the first time.

Anyway back to the here and now.

Grammy Shepherd comes around the side of the bed, takes my faces in her hands and lifts my head so I'm looking straight at her.

"You're too skinny." She tells me. "When did you last have a proper meal? And no, hospital food does not count. I know what that awful stuff is like."

I give her another smile. "It's been a little while. How are you Grammy?"

She release my face and sits down next to me. "I'm just fine dear. I'm here to see my son who never calls or visits." Then her eyes move to Samantha's still sleeping form. "Whose the young lady you just had your hands all over?"

I can feel my face slowly turn beet red. "This is Samantha, she's my girlfriend." I say with another huge grin.

Grammy chuckles at me and takes my hand. "You better be treating her right Michael." She warns. She's always been worried that I'll end up treating women the same way my dad does.

"I love her Grammy, I'd never treat her bad. I promise."

"You love her?"

"I do."

"Well, okay then." She pats my hand and sighs again. "You know Derek and your father are dating sisters?"

"Yeah, the Greys. It's weird, right?" I ask her.

She gives me a tiny shrug. "As long as everyone is happy. I think you need some fresh air."

With that Grammy stands up and leaves the room only to come back in a couple seconds later with a wheelchair. There's no way I can say no to her, she's kinda stubborn but in a good way, so I untangle myself from Samantha and shuffle to the edge of the bed. It's now that I'm super thankful for the basketball shorts and hoodie that I'm wearing because otherwise I'm pretty sure my gown would have fallen open or something.

Grammy locks the breaks on the wheelchair and helps me off of the bed so I can sit comfortably with my leg resting on the extension plate thing. She then pulls an extra blanket off of the end of the bed and wraps it around my, tucking it around my plaster cast and up to my middle.

"Comfortable?" She asks.

"I'm about as comfortable as I can be with all these injuries." I tell her truthfully. "I'm okay though."

Grammy just nods and starts to push me out the door. We go an elevator which takes us to the ground floor. It looks like a pretty decent day out so I'm looking forward to actually being outside. Grammy stops at a coffee cart and comes to stand in front of me.

"Hot chocolate Michael?" She asks me but she doesn't need to. She already knows what I like.

"Yes please." I know, I'm so polite.

We get our drinks and head on outside. It's breezy out here but not exactly cold. Although this doesn't stop Grammy from pulling my hood up for me to keep me warm. The she moves me over to a bench and sits down so she's once again facing me.

"So young man, tell me how you ended up almost dying."

 **So there you have it. A little bit of family interaction and some of Samantha and Michael.**

 **Like I said, Addison and Michael interaction should hopefully be next chapter so look out for that.**

 **Thanks y'all so much for sticking with me on this and I promise not to leave it so long again before the next update. Some of it is already written out so shouldn't be long.**

 **Thanks again.**

 **Peace**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay you lovely people. Here is some Addison and Michael interaction and some from the past. The past events are in** ** _Italics_** **so look out for those.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 **Michael's POV**

"Baby, wake up." A sweet voice calls to me. "Babe, I miss you. Wake up."

Samantha places a small kiss on my lips and I can't help but grin. I love this goofy girl so damn much.

"Mmm, morning handsome." She mumbles with a grin.

I wrap my arm around her and tangle my hand in her hair, pulling her closer to me for another kiss. This time it's deeper, more passionate. I move my hand down to her butt, giving it a squeeze and forcing a small moan out of her as she deepens the kiss further. I love her butt.

She chooses this moment to move so she's straddling my right leg with her elbows resting on either side of my head. It feels like forever since we've been able to make out like this and I've missed it so much. I love feeling her, I love her.

Samantha moves her arm down and her elbow bumps into my stomach, startling me.

"Shit." I mutter. "Fucking hurt."

"I'm so sorry Michael. Are you okay?" Samantha climbs off of me in record time and starts to fuss around.

"I'm fine. Just didn't think it'd hurt that bad."

"I'm gonna get a doctor." She blurts out and before I can stop her, she bolts out the room seemingly not worried about her only wearing a pair of my boxers and a tee shirt.

She must have found someone pretty quickly because next thing I know, she's coming rushing back into he room with Doctor O'Malley.

"Okay Michael, lets see what we can do here." O'Malley says as he comes round the side of the bed.

"Uh, babe, I've got physiotherapy so I'm gonna go. I love you. I'll see you later." And with that Samantha leaves. She feels guilty, I know she does.

O'Malley goes about changing my bandaid on my stomach. He takes his time because its pretty tender right now and he doesn't want to make it any worse. O'Malley is pretty funny. He's really awkward and quiet but he's an awesome doctor. We crack jokes with each other and we're both a little bit nerdy.

Once he's finished he goes about checking my chart. I don't think there's anything new on there, it's just a routine thing for a doctor I guess. It gives me a chance to watch the busy, working people outside my room.

"Wait was that Addie?" I ask O'Malley as I see a blur of red hair storms past my doorway. "Aunt Addie!" I yell and my voice cracks as I do. A couple of seconds pass and then she's there, frowning in the doorway looking sad.

"I'd recognise that shade of red anywhere." I tell her with a grin. "Hey O'Malley, would you mind asking Doctor Bailey if I can leave this room today?" He nods and leaves, knowing that he's not overly wanted right now.

Once O'Malley has left, Addie steps further into the room and her frown deepens. "Michael, what're you doing in here? Are you sick?" She grabs my chart instinctively and starts to scan over it. Typical doctor, medical notes first, conversations second.

I pull the covers away to reveal the monster plaster cast half hidden by my shorts, and lift up my hoodie to show my abdomen with the oversized bandaid. "Bear attack." I tell her with a straight face. Her mouth drops open and she pales slightly. I can't help but laugh. "Nah I'm messing with you. I was in a car accident couple months ago. I thought you were in Los Angeles?"

"I was. I um, I'm here with Archer. You remember Archer, right?" She asks me as she straightens out my gown and tucks the covers around me, her motherly side shining through which I love because I love her.

"You're brother Archer? The neurologist? Is he okay? Are you okay?" She looks scared and I don't like it.

"Sweetie I'm fine, don't worry." She takes my hand and squeezes it. "Its Archer. He has something called neurocysticercosis. It's-."

"Parasites. He has parasites in his brain?" I ask in sheer astonishment and she only nods. "Well shit."

"Michael, you watch your language." She warns in a heartbeat.

"Sorry." My face flushes. "Aunt Addie, go be with him. He needs you. I mean, I need you too. But I don't have bugs in my brain."

She laughs softly, patting my hand. "How do you know what it is?" She asks with genuine curiosity.

I can't help but snort out a laugh. "Mark, you, Archer, Uncle D and all of his sisters are doctors. It's kinda part of my genetics and upbringing."

"I guess it is." She says with a hint of sadness. "I can't be around him though. Derek doesn't think he can save Archer so-." She stops mid sentence. She's so scared about loosing her big brother which I can completely understand.

"Okay. He'll be okay. He's stubborn. It'll take more then bugs to stop him." I try my hardest to reassure her. "So, how's LA treating you? I'm loving your new style and you hair looks fab." I ask, trying to change the subject.

"LA is great. Sam and Naomi are there. We work in a place called Oceanside Health & Wellness Group which is a private practice. Very, very different from working here and also very different from working in the private practice that your father, Derek and I started up in New York. Do you remember Sam and Naomi?" She asks me, not really concentrating on the conversation.

"I think so. I remember grumpy Archer. And I think I remember meeting your mom and dad one time but I don't remember a Sam and Naomi. Are they nice? Are they here?" I'm trying my best to keep the conversation going.

"They are here. Naomi and Archer are, well let's just say they're dating." She says without saying the obvious.

"You mean they're friends and or colleagues with sex on the side, right?" I say with a grin.

She laughs and looks at me in shock. "Michael Everett Sloan, since when do you say things like that!"

I can't help but laugh with her. "Since I grew two years and took on the world myself. After Mark left me in New York on my own so he could come here, I had to grow up pretty fast. No good being a kid in a world full of grown ups." I shrug to show it's no big deal, but deep down it really hurts to admit it.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry he did that to you." She stands up and wraps her arms around me, engulfing me in one of her amazing hugs. I love this woman as if she were my mother.

I hug her back tightly, holding on in case I don't get another hug for a while. "I've missed your hugs Aunt Addie. I love you so much." I tell her quietly.

She rubs my back and sits on the edge of the bed so we can hug more closely. "I love you too sweetheart. I'm so proud of the grown up young man you've become."

There's a cough from the doorway and we pull apart to see George stood there awkwardly. "Doctor Montgomery, Doctor Shepherd is asking to speak with you. He has an idea to try and save your brother." It's almost like I can physically see the weight lifted off her shoulders.

She turns back to look at me. "Go Aunt Addie. I'll be fine."

"Actually, Michael, Doctor Bailey said it's okay for you to leave your room, so long as you're in a wheelchair and don't leave the hospital." George tells me as well with a small, crooked smile.

I grin up at Addie and she smiles back. "Doctor O'Malley, would be so kind as to find Michael a wheelchair. We're going on a hospital tour." She says with a smirk.

. . .

I love Addie, she'e could easily be my mother. She's cared for me so much over the years and we've shared so many good memories. Of course they're bad memories mixed in with those as well.

 **Addison's POV**

 _"_ _I hate you!" Michael screams at me. "Don't ever fucking speak to me again!"_

 _"_ _Michael Everett Sloan, don't you dare talk to me like that. I'm here to help you, don't take things out on me." I tell him calmly. I love this boy but he really does try my patience some times._

 _"_ _No! You're just like him. You're all laughing at me!" He shouts waving his arms around._

 _"_ _Michael, sweetie, no one is laughing at you. We're just all trying to figure this out."_

 _He starts to pace on the other side of the kitchen running his hands through his hair. When he's mad like this, even though he's only nine, he looks so much like his father. I can't believe we're having this argument again and all because Mark is an ass._

 _Mark went and told Michael that he thinks Michael feeling like a boy is a phase, even though it's been coming up to four years since he first told us. When Michael came over to tell me I smiled trying to calm the situation because he's mad as hell. But now he thinks I'm laughing at him about it all._

 _"_ _Will you please just come and sit down so we can talk about this like adults?" I ask him sternly, taking a step closer to him._

 _"_ _No. Back off Addie. Don't come near me." He warns but I ignore his threat._

 _I continue to walk towards him when he picks up a plate from the counter top and throws it at me. I lift my arm to cover my face and before I can move out of the way, the plate hits my arm. It breaks in two on contact and falls to the floor, leaving a long gash on my forearm._

 _"_ _Damn it." I curse, grabbing a kitchen towel and pressing it to my arm._

 _On the other side of the kitchen, Michael's face falls and he pales. "Aunt Addie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He rushes over blurting out an apology. "Please be okay."_

 _"_ _Michael, its fine." It isn't but I'm not going to tell him that right now. "I need you to go and get your father."_

 _"_ _But he's sleeping, I don't wanna make him mad."_

 _Even after six years with us, he's still terrified that when he doesn't something bad, he's going to be punished for it._

 _"_ _He won't be mad sweetie, but I do need him here."_

 _Michael bites his lip but nods and runs out of the house. I wrap the kitchen towel tighter around my arm and make my way into the living room to sit on the couch. I know he didn't do this on purpose, but he really needs to get a hold of his anger. These outbursts cant keep happening._

 _"_ _Addison?"_

 _"_ _On the couch Mark." I call back through to him._

 _He comes storming in clad only in sweatpants looking sleep deprived and pissed off._

 _"_ _What did she do this time?" He snaps while coming over to kneel in front of me._

 _"_ _It's not his fault Mark. Just help me get this fixed up." I tell him._

 _"_ _Aunt Addie, I'm sorry." Michael mumbles from the doorway._

 _"_ _Melissa, go home. I'll deal with you later." Mark snaps again and this time Michael flinches._

 _"_ _Mark, don't." I warn. "Michael, it's okay. Go on upstairs. Make yourself comfortable in the spare room. I'll be up in a bit."_

 _"_ _Are you sure?" He sniffles his question._

 _"_ _Absolutely. Go on."_

 _He needs to know I'm not mad at him. I could never be fully mad at him for something. It's not his fault the first three years of his life were so awful, they still effect him now. I love him, I'm never going to be too mad at him._

 _. . ._

It's extremely selfish but I'm glad Michael is here. He grounds me, I love him like he were my son. It practically is my son, Derek and I helped raise him for so long.

I don't know what to do about Archer. He's probably going to die and I don't know if I could handle that on my own. I know Naomi and Mark are here and even Derek would comfort me, if Meredith let him. But with Michael here, everything just seems better. Obviously things would be a lot better if Michael was healthy but at least he's alive.

I'll always remember the first time Mark brought him over after Michael's mother left him on the door step.

. . .

 _"_ _I don't know what to do with her. She isn't even potty trained Addie." Mark tells me in a hushed tone._

 _"_ _Mark, she's just a baby and she needs love from her father. She needs you to help her." I place a hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze._

 _"_ _I never had a good childhood. My parents were barely home, I don't know what its like to have a family Addison. How am i supposed to be this kids family?" he rants to me with pain and fear in his voice._

 _"_ _Derek and I will help you." I tell him simply._

 _We both look over at the tiny bundle curled up on the couch clutching a filthy rag in her little hands._

 _I cant even imagine half of what this little angel must have been through. Her skinny arms and legs are covered in bruises and old scars, sticking out of her tatty shorts and ripped vest. She has grazes on her knees so large, it looks like she's been dragged across the floor. The graze on her left knee is still weeping slightly, the edge of her shorts leaving bits of lint as she squirms slightly. Her hair is a mess of tangles and dirt. It hurts my heart to think of how this tiny being has been treated in her short three years of life. I will never understand how someone can do this to something so defenceless and precious._

 _Her speech and development is so delayed, she only knows a few words and even those shine light on her past. Words like no, stop, momma, bad, and a few curse words that no child should know._

 _My thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening and closing. At the sound, the little one jumps awake and slides off the couch, almost stumbling over. She straightens, standing by the arm and shaking slightly while focusing on the floor with a fixed stare. She's like a tiny soldier standing to attention. Derek walks past the archway into the kitchen and Mark practically runs to go with him, leaving the girl with me._

 _I take the opportunity to talk to her. I quietly make my way over to her, sitting on the couch where she was just fast asleep. "How you feeling little one?" I ask her, lifting a hand to move strands of hair away from her face._

 _She winces away from me and starts to cry, sobs that tear at my heart strings. Its then that I notice the darkened patch on the front of her shorts. My heart drops._

 _"_ _Sweetie its okay." I tell her right away, I can't have her thinking I'm mad at her. "Accidents happen."_

 _She stammers her response to me, "Bad."_

 _"_ _No sweetheart, you're not bad. I promise." I feel small tears making tracks on my face. "Give me two minutes."_

 _I make my way into the kitchen to find Derek and Mark arguing in hushed tones._

 _"_ _Did you buy some clothes for her?" I ask my fiancé whose leaning against the counter top, drinking from a bottle of water._

 _"_ _Yes." He nods towards a grocery bags on the counter top._

 _"_ _I think I'm going to try and bathe her. Did you buy pull ups as well?" He nods to the grocery bags again._

 _"_ _Addie, I don't think we can care for her. She needs help." Derek tells me with a nod from Mark._

 _Unbelievable. "I really wonder how you two are even doctors sometimes." I snap at them. "There is a young, hurt little girl in there that needs love, attention and patience from her father. Yes, she needs help and yes, its going to take a long time for her to recover from this, but we have to help her. She's your daughter Mark!" I shout at him._

 _Both men had stopped listening and was looking behind me towards the door. I turn around and follow their gaze to the tiny human in the door way. Her gorgeous big eyes, just like Mark's, are staring up at us and I wonder what she's thinking about._

 _"_ _Momma." She simply says._

 _"_ _Sweetie, your momma isn't here." I tell her after a few seconds of neither men saying anything. "We're going to look after you now." I offer her a small smile. She probably has no idea what I'm saying to her._

 _She frowns and points at me. "Momma?" she says, in more of a question then a statement._

 _I just smile at her and turn around. The two men are both staring at the little being with pained confused looks on their faces. I go to the groceries on the counter top and rummage through the bags trying to find the things that I need. Derek has literally bought a few of everything. Different shampoos, two toothbrushes, two different types of pull up, pyjama's, about five different outfits. Then theres a bag of food, little packets of vegetable chips, regular potato chips, fruit, juice boxes, and ready made children's meals. There's also three children's books, a puzzle, a box of foam bath letters and a stuffed plushy turtle with huge eyes. I look up to him and he just offers me a small shrug. I guess have younger sisters has come in handy._

 _I pull out a bottle of shampoo, a sponge, a pair of pyjamas, a pull up and the box of foam letters._

 _"_ _I'm going to bathe her then try and see if she'll eat something. If either of you would like to help by maybe preparing a meal, I'd really appreciate it." I tell the two men. Why am I the only one trying to get things sorted out for this tiny angel? I turn around and crouch in front of her. "Do you want to have a bath?" I ask her. I'm greeted with a stare._

 _I straighten up and hold out my hand. She looks at it for a few seconds before taking it and holding on tightly. I walk her upstairs, she takes them one at a time using my hand to pull herself up, and into the bathroom where I place her things on the side next to the sink._

 _I go about laying things out in the bathroom, making sure I have a towel warmed up for her when we're finished and have everything ready so I'm not fussing about while she's in the tub. The little angel stands in the doorway, still clutching that dirty rag and watching everything I do, her big eyes not missing anything. I wonder if she's ever had a proper bath before? I shake my head not wanting to think about her little life before us._

 _I go to the bath and turn on the taps, adding a little bubble bath to make it fun. I look over to see her leaning over the edge watching the bubbles froth up in the tub. She looks amazed by how they grow. I scoop up a handful of bubbles and show her then I blow them and they go all over the place. She gasps then giggles and my heart melts. Its like a baby's giggle, full of joy and innocence. I scoop up more bubbles and do the same and her laugh is louder this time. She really is so special._

 _I check the water to make sure it's not too hot or cold and then turn off the taps. "Shall we get you ready for a bath little one?" I ask her, not really expecting an answer._

 _She doesn't say anything. Instead she points at the water and looks at me so I nod yes to her. She steps back and peels off the disgusting vest that she's wearing and drops it on the floor. I'm horrified by what I see. Amongst the dirt and grime, there are welts on her back and sides, bruises shaped like hand prints on her upper arms, scars all over her and worst of all, a line of burns down her back between her shoulder blades. The first six at healed and scarred but the other two are fresh and weeping. How is she not crying with these burns on her? Maybe it's just something she's used to. I feel sick thinking about it._

 _She strips off her shorts as well and leaves them on the floor but she still clutches the rag, staring up at me._

 _"_ _Ready?" I ask her._

 _She doesn't say anything, she just lifts up her arms a little. I pick her up and she's so light, so skinny. I stand her in the bath and kneel beside the tub. She looks surprised. She holds her hand out for me to take. I place my hand in hers and she takes it and puts it in the water._

 _"_ _Hot." She states._

 _"_ _No sweetie, it's warm. Do you want more cold in it?" I thought it would be okay for her._

 _She shakes her head no and sits down, smiling. Maybe she's never had a warm bath before. The thought chokes me up again so I distract myself by opening the foam letters. Her eyes spring up from the bubbles to the box of letters, curiosity beaming from her tiny face. I empty the box into the water and she smiles again. I take the cup from the side of the bath while she plays with the letters. I start to fill it with water so I can wash her hair and she begins to watch me again._

 _Everything she's experiencing must be brand new for her. She's like a tiny baby, watching everything that happens and taking it all in, learning from it all. She's like a sponge, soaking up every little bit of knowledge around her and processing it. The things she has already witnessed in her tiny life are awful, abuse, violence to her mother and from her, drink and drugs, hunger. It's going to be like starting over for her. This is her new life and I intend to make it as enjoyable and loving for her as I can. I love this tiny human._

 _. . ._

 **So there you have it. Hope you enjoyed the little bond those two have. I personally think it's very cute and there will definitely be more of it.**

 **Reviews are welcome.**

 **Peace**


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